


Not Enough Rain in Oklahoma

by cardinalstar



Series: Overhead and Underfoot [1]
Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Additional tags will be added for future chapters, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Temeraire Fusion, Canonically Referenced Child Abuse, Egg-napping I suppose, Escape, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kidnapping, Leonard Snart and his accidental dragon collection, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, Mick Rory is a literal hot mess, On the Run, lots of platonic relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7245241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalstar/pseuds/cardinalstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len had always known that Lewis was power-hungry and craved control like it was oxygen, but even he hadn’t expected his father to kidnap dragon eggs in the hopes of imprinting the newborn hatchlings.  But when the dragon inside the first egg proves less biddable – and more flammable – than expected, Len and Lisa must find their own way back to Central City and return the second egg to its proper home, before it can hatch.  </p><p>Of course, when you’re on the run in the middle of nowhere, time has a tendency of getting away from you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lion And The Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> So instead of working on my WIPs, I guess I'm writing about dragons? It was honestly a matter of time. 
> 
> I couldn't resist the idea of a Flash/Temeraire crossover, since I re-found my omnibus of the first three Temeraire novels and they're just as delightful as I remembered. For those of you who aren't familiar with Temeraire, it's a series of historical fantasy novels that basically takes the premise of "What if the Napoleonic Wars had been fought with an air force of gigantic dragons?" and runs with it. It's even better than it sounds and I can't recommend it enough. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this deviation from my other fic-writing responsibilities! Your regularly scheduled ColdFlash will return after the break.

Len slid out of the passenger seat of the battered white van, and the wall of dry air that hit him was the first piece of evidence that they were very far from home.

This safe house was a place that Len didn’t know. It was old and run-down, part of a cluster of smaller buildings on what looked to be a farm. He looked down the gravel drive and was barely able to make out the shapes of other buildings in the distance.

Jennings, Oklahoma. Population 363, according to the sign they’d passed on the way. It was 366 now, soon to be 367 if their father had his way.

Lewis had called it a vacation, in a fit of tongue-in-cheek humor that Len had not enjoyed in the least. He was used to the bustle and noise of Central City. People and dragons going about their lives, though whether they were overhead or underfoot depended on your point of view.

Central had places to escape, to hide. If he needed to, Len could take one of five different routes from their house to safe locations around the city. If dear old dad didn’t stock the fridge for a week, Len could go by the Motorcar, his grandfather’s diner, and get enough food for Lisa and himself without so much as breaking a sweat.

The stillness of the agricultural fields was oppressive in its quiet. Len took a deep breath. There would be no safe haven here. He and Lisa were trapped with their father, alone.

Lewis stumped over to the back of the van and pulled open the swinging doors. “Leo, get the firewood to the outbuilding,” he ordered. “I’ll get the crate.”

Len grabbed several cords of firewood, pausing for a second to glance at his kid sister asleep in the backseat before heading to the cinderblock shed behind the house.

He set the wood down in the corner, then watched as Lewis shuffled into the room, his face blocked from view by a massive crate stuffed with straw. “Well?” he barked when he saw Len looking at him. “Start making a fire. We’ll have to set this one in the coals,” he said, opening the crate and dusting the straw off the top of the object inside.

“And if the coals are too hot for it?” Len said dryly.

His father smiled. “All the more incentive for it to hatch, then.”

Len took a deep breath and started working on a fire. “Remind me. Why are we nursemaiding an egg again? Surely there are enough dragons for hire that you could buy some muscle.”

It was a safe enough question. Lewis had downed a beer during the last leg of the drive, so he was in a good mood. “Because you can’t buy loyalty, son – a lesson I hope you’ve learned at this point, since you’re almost old enough to be a man. Imprinting’s the key,” he said with satisfaction as he appraised the egg’s hard, pebbly red surface. “Get a dragon fresh out of the shell, stuff it full of meat, and as far as it’s concerned you might as well be its mother.” Lewis patted the egg. “I’ll be this fellow’s world by the time I’m done with it.”

As he watched his father unpack the egg, Len’s stomach twisted with nausea. This was by far the vilest thing Lewis had ever made him do. Stolen supplies and busted ATMs were one thing, but this? Inside this egg was a living thing. A _baby,_ who would now get to grow up under the thumb of an abusive dirty cop just because it had the misfortune of being the largest egg in the incubator that Lewis had chosen to target.

Stealing a dragon’s egg was fraught with peril – one of the reasons that Lewis had chosen to take them out of the state altogether while he waited for it to hatch. Dragons were notoriously protective of their young, and would hunt down anyone who stole an egg regardless of whether or not it was their own offspring. But this egg had been a ward of the state, and no vengeful parents would be coming for it.

Whether Len had stolen it or not, the egg would have still hatched in captivity and been raised by human hands. But indifferent handling and limited freedom was still preferable to a lifetime of servitude. This hatchling would have its nature turned against it from the minute it was born, as the instincts that drove it to bond with a protector instead forced it into slavery.

Lewis left to have another drink, and Len carefully lifted the egg and placed it in the fire. He watched the small tongues of flame lick over the shell, and frowned.

It was a peculiarity of dragonkind that they could, to an extent, choose their caregivers. Len and Lisa hadn’t gotten to choose their parents. But this hatchling could, and its decision was being made for it.

The sound of small footsteps alerted Len to Lisa’s presence. She stopped beside him and stared at the dull red egg on its bed of coals. “I wonder if he’s comfy in there,” she said, her lips pursed in a thoughtful pout that made her look even younger than her nine years.

“It could be a she,” Len said, unable to resist playing devil’s advocate. “Or neither.” He hadn’t met many dragons, despite living in one of the most integrated cities in the country, but it stood to reason that there were some who identified outside the gender binary _somewhere._

“I know that, Lenny,” Lisa huffed. “But I really think it’s a boy.”

“Maybe you’re right. Still, wouldn’t you rather have another girl in the family?” he said, wincing internally at the black humor in his voice.

Lisa’s face fell. “Not really,” she said with a heart-tugging sniff. “It’d just make me miss Iris more.” She sniffed again, unshed tears briefly filling her eyes before she closed them. “She was the _best,_ Lenny. She offered to take me flying but our teachers said no. I wanted you to meet her.”

“I know, Lise,” Len said, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m looking forward to meeting her when we go back to Central.”

It wasn’t a lie. Mid-way into second grade, Lisa had managed to befriend one of the most respected young dragons in Central City. Iris West was the oldest hatchling of a CCDP officer, and if that wasn’t badass enough, she was a fucking _Copacati._ When Lisa had shown Len the dragon’s picture in the yearbook, he’d almost yelped at the sight of the unmistakable ruff of feathers, dark silver tipped with green, and the black fangs.

Once he’d gotten over his initial surprise, he couldn’t have been happier. Copacatis were rare in the United States, by far the rarest of the vitriolic breeds, and were all the more dangerous for it. Lisa’s close friendship with an acid-spitting dragon was just one more thing that would help keep her safe from Lewis when she was older.

Len privately vowed that he’d go find the Wests himself, if that was what it took to get Lisa and Iris back in touch when they went home. It had been a piece of good luck that they’d gotten to meet at all. Dragons and humans were generally separated in early grade levels, because young dragons learned and grew so much more quickly than human children. Co-species lectures were the norm in high school and college, but between learning the family business and protecting his sister, Len had no time for school. He’d dropped out when he was sixteen, before class integration started, and as a result hadn’t gotten the opportunity to make any draconic friends.

The program at Lisa’s school was a newer development, intended to foster interspecies cooperation. Without it, Lisa and Iris wouldn’t have met until they were much older.

Who knew? Maybe their childhood friendship had the potential to grow into a legally binding partnership. Stranger things had happened, and with a dragon like that by her side, no one would ever be able to touch her.

“They can hear when they’re in the egg, you know,” Lisa said, pulling Len from his thoughts. “It’s how they learn languages. He can hear everything we’re saying.”

Huh. Len had forgotten about that.

That night, Len crept back into the boiling-hot room where the egg sat, its hard shell glinting dully in the firelight. “Hey,” he whispered to it, feeling more than a little silly. “My name’s Len. It’s my fault you’re here, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what kind of life you would have had, but this is a bad place.” He paused and looked around at the shifting shadows on the walls. “Don’t trust Lewis, or listen to any of the promises he makes you. Don’t let him touch you. As soon as you hatch, run.”

* * *

Their days gradually fell into a routine as they waited for the egg to hatch. Len woke up early, got Lisa, and drove into town to stock up on food and firewood. After that, it was back to the egg shed.

The egg required round-the-clock tending. The government incubator that Len had stolen it from had been equipped with hothouses, large steam-filled rooms that kept the eggs warm enough to incubate. Without one, Len had to keep the room warm himself – and that meant feeding the fire every three hours, day and night.

During the day, Len ignored the egg and went about his business. Lewis spent most of his time drinking, but if Len was caught it would mean trouble. Nighttime was a different story. At three AM Len would slip into the cinderblock shed, pile wood on the fire, and talk to the egg.

He told stories about his childhood, about the heists he’d pulled to earn money for Lisa’s ice-skating lessons, even some things about his father. Once, at Lisa’s suggestion, Len read the egg a bedtime story he’d stolen from the library, some Aesop’s fables shit about a lion freeing a mouse and getting a good deed in return. Of course the world didn’t work that way, he’d refrained from saying to the egg at the end of the story. But wasn’t it nice to think so?

When the first day of school back in Central came and went, and Lisa had hid herself in the house’s coat closet so that Lewis wouldn’t see her crying about missing Iris, Len told the egg about his sister. “I can’t protect her,” he sighed. “I’ll be eighteen in two months, but I can’t steal enough to support us, not if she’s going to have the kind of life she deserves.”

But they couldn’t stay out here, alone with Lewis in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t safe. With the veneer of his police job gone and nothing else to do in town, their father was drinking more now than he ever had. It was all he could do to keep Lisa out of his way.

Escape was the only option if she was going to be safe. If she went into the system because he couldn’t take care of her, Len would never forgive himself – but how much worse would things be if they stayed in Jennings?

One night, Len stole the key to the safe and spent the night by the dragon’s fire, pulling a single twenty-dollar bill out of every stack of Lewis’ dirty money. “I’ll find a way to make it work,” he said to the egg. “Lisa’s gotta be safe.”

And then one day, when Len had almost finished putting together a plan, Lewis disappeared.

When he jerked awake at 6:29 that morning, a reaction conditioned by a lifetime of early mornings, the house was suspiciously silent. There was no clatter from the living room, no clinking of bottles in the kitchen.

Len’s stomach lurched into a knot, and he sat bolt upright to look over at his sister’s bed. Lisa was still there, asleep with a faint frown on her face, hugging the faded yellow dragon plush he’d stolen for her on her fifth birthday in one of his first solo jobs.

The worst of his anxiety eased, Len frowned. He climbed out of bed and threw on clothes; the egg needed tending before he ate anything, and then he could check on his father. Lewis had probably passed out drunk again, but by this time he was usually complaining about his hangover and grabbing another drink. The downstairs silence was… unusual.

Len descended the rickety wooden staircase cautiously, keeping to the side of each step so that the stairs wouldn’t squeak, but Lewis wasn’t downstairs. He wasn’t in the egg room, or in the woodshed.

Tentatively, Len pushed open the door of the tiny garage and narrowed his eyes when he saw that the van was gone.

Lewis never took the van. If he’d gone into town for a drink, he would have taken the motorcycle – but there it was, parked in the corner.

Something was up, and Len didn’t like it.

“We’re leaving,” he said to Lisa after he’d put more wood on the egg’s fire. “Dad isn’t around, he won’t miss us when we’re gone. I’ll get a job, you’ll go back to school.”

Lisa’s forehead crinkled and she looked up at him in confusion. “But Lenny, we can’t leave yet.”

A trickle of anxiety crept down Len’s spine. “Don’t you want to see Iris again?” he said, playing his trump card.

Lisa’s lip wobbled. “I do,” she said, and Len felt a twinge of guilt. “But we can’t leave the egg. It’ll die.”

Len turned to look out the window at the egg shed, feeling like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Lewis had forced him to do what he did, but he had still stolen this egg. He couldn’t leave it here to slowly cool and die. It would be his fault.

“Breakfast first. Then we check the shell,” he said to Lisa. “If it’s hard, we wait. If not, we find a way to take it with us.”

Lisa’s tiny shoulders relaxed. “I knew you wouldn’t leave him!” she said, faith in the world clearly restored. “Can we make scrambled eggs?”

As Len helped his sister hold the bowl still and whisk milk into the beaten yolks, his mind was far away, turning over options. Carrying the egg was out of the question; it was larger than a beachball, and weighed over thirty pounds. He couldn’t just load it onto the motorcycle and hope for the best. Their best bet was to find some sort of trailer in town, one that was small enough to be towed by a motorcycle until they either reached Central or found a group of dragons to take the egg.

When Len touched the hot shell of the egg, it didn’t give an inch beneath his fingertips. Hard as a rock. “What did your textbook say about dragon eggs hatching, Lise?” he said, tearing his eyes away from the pebbly shell.

“When the shell has completely hardened, the egg generally will hatch within a week,” Lisa said, her eyes wide and worried. “Lenny, what if he hatches before dad comes back? Will we take him with us?”

“We’ll have to, won’t we?” Like hell was he leaving a newborn dragon alone in the middle of nowhere. They could fly right from the egg, but that didn’t mean they could just fend for themselves. He’d have to keep the dragon from imprinting on him, teach it to hunt its own food, but it could be done.

Two days passed in nail-biting inactivity. Len and Lisa watched the egg round the clock, playing card games and taking turns sleeping at night while they waited for it to hatch.

Then, one morning as the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the sound of a car muffler startled Len into wakefulness.

He looked out the open door of the shed and saw, with a cold sweeping feeling, Lewis’ van pulling up to the front of the house.

Len touched Lisa’s shoulder and she sat up, instantly awake. “What is it?”

“Dad’s home,” Len said, keeping his voice steady and level to hide his fear. “Go sneak in the back. Pretend you came downstairs for a drink of water. I’ll talk to him.”

“Lenny, no! He’ll hurt you,” she protested.

“Maybe not,” he said, because Lisa was only nine but she knew a lie when she heard one. “Go. Please. For me.”

Lisa nodded, and Len took a deep breath before stepping out of the shed and walking purposefully in the direction of the van.

Their father was swinging down from the driver’s seat, his face flushed with what looked like a combination of alcohol and triumph. “Leo. Up and at ‘em already. Keeping an eye on your new sibling?”

“Fire’s built up,” Len said, ignoring the jab in favor of keeping an eye on Lisa’s silhouette, moving silently through the dark morning.

“Good,” Lewis grunted, walking toward the back of the van and throwing the doors open. “Hope you’ve got some nice coals going, because we’ve got another addition.”

Len looked at the dome of the small red egg peeking out of the crate in the back with mounting horror. “Is that another egg?”

“Sure is, son,” Lewis said, slapping the crate and jouncing the egg sideways in its bed of straw. “Got a tip from an old buddy on the force that they were moving this egg from the breeding grounds. Some sort of special delivery.”

“Where were they sending it?” Len asked mechanically.

Lewis’s smile grew crafty. “STAR Labs. It’s part of some breeding program – some sort of experimental hybrid. Should be worth a fortune in the shell, if we can get it out of the country.”

Lewis was in a talking mood today, but Len could only stare at the shell of the newest addition to his father’s collection. This egg was smaller than the first, and had a smooth glossy shell, red all over except for a few small streaks of yellow-gold.

Of course his father hadn’t been able to stop at one egg. He’d chosen to be greedy, to try and imprint two hatchlings – never mind that the older dragon would never allow it, would drive the newcomer away by force rather than share a handler.

He would have to cross that bridge when the time came. For now, he had to focus on keeping the newest egg alive.

At least this egg was easier to carry than the first had been. It was slightly larger than a basketball, and Len’s fingers tingled slightly where his hand made contact with the shell. Len frowned at the odd feeling; compared to the other egg, this one felt even more like a living thing.

He settled the red and yellow egg in the dimmer coals, then stepped back to look over his newest responsibility. “You heard the news?” he said, rapping a knuckle on the pebbly red shell of the larger egg. “My old man went and found you a sibling. Now both of you are stuck here. And so are Lisa and I, all because _you-_ ” he rapped the shell again – “couldn’t hatch fast enough!”

He fell silent, glowering at the egg.

And then the shell cracked.

It was a narrow fissure in the side, almost invisible in the rough surface, but Len froze all the same. If he’d harmed the egg with that little tap –

A web of cracks spread out from the first one, and a few bits of shell spilled into the coals. So it was the dragonet doing the damage. Len huffed out a single breath of relief, then his brain caught up.

“You have to wait!” he hissed, putting a hand on the rocking egg. “Dad is right outside – you won’t be able to escape!”

The egg paid him no mind; larger chunks of shell tumbled away, and Len saw a long black talon extend experimentally through the gap.

“Well, Leo, what’s taking –” Lewis froze in the doorway, and Len’s stomach sank at the twisted smile spreading across his face. “Good. Hold it there, son.”

“What if it tries to escape?” Len said.

Lewis’ eyes narrowed. “If you know what’s good for your sister, you’ll make sure it _stays put.”_

Cold settled over Len’s skin as his father vanished in the direction of the house. He was going for the meat, the collar and chain.

But Len couldn’t do anything to stop him, not with his sister’s safety on the line.

“Well?” he said to the egg.

The rocking stilled briefly, and then the egg shattered.

Len leapt back under the sudden deluge of eggshell, raising a hand to protect his eyes.

“Hey, you,” growled a deep voice.

Len lowered his hand and took a look at the newborn dragonet for the first time.

The first thing that struck him was how unexpectedly large the hatchling was. The egg must have been full to bursting; even though it was newly hatched, the dragonet was bigger than the largest cat Len had ever seen, almost dog-sized. Its rough scales were wine-dark, patterned in large rosettes of yellow bordered with green, and its spine was lined with several rows of impressive-looking spikes. The slightly curved horns on its head looked capable of breaking bones, and the hatchling had the bulk to back them up.

Len let out a long, slow breath, his mind whirring. He wouldn’t be able to stop a creature like this if it came to a fight. Those horns and wicked-looking claws would carve him up if he tried. His best bet would be to get it talking.

The hatchling stretched and gave its wings an experimental flex before looking up at him with gleaming yellow eyes. “Are you Lewis Snart?” it rumbled.

“No,” Len said quickly, startled by the hatchling’s deep baritone. Definitely a male dragon, then, unless he told him otherwise.

“So you’re Leonard,” the hatchling said, blinking once. “You have eggshell on your face.”

“Wha –” Len reached up and touched his nose mechanically.

“Nope.” The hatchling shook his head briefly. “A little to the left.”

Len swiped his hand across his cheek. It came away with bits of gooey eggshell clinging on.

“Better,” said the dragon with a decisive nod before a shadow fell across the doorstep.

Lewis had returned, bucket of meat and harness in hand. “Well,” he said, humming appreciatively. “Aren’t you a fine-looking fellow. We might need a bigger harness, Leo.” He knelt next to the hatchling and held out the bowl of meat. “Are you interested in having a meal and learning more about what you can gain from being part of our family?”

The dragon’s yellow eyes narrowed. “Not gonna take food from someone I don’t know. You got a name?”

“The name’s Lewis Snart,” said Len’s father with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And what is your name?” he asked the hatchling.

The dragonet looked slowly from the meat to the harness, then finally turned to Len. “Lisa,” he rumbled. “Where is she?”

“She’s inside,” Len said. “Why?”

A plume of smoke rose from the dragonet’s nostrils. “Go get her.”

Then, before Len could react, the hatchling leapt straight at Lewis and sank needle-sharp teeth into his hand.

Lewis dropped the meat and the harness with a yell of pain. The hatchling snatched the assortment of straps and buckles, throwing it away from him with a growl. “None of that on me,” he hissed. “I know your game.”

“What did you _do,_ Leonard?” Lewis bellowed, clutching his bitten hand.

Len backed toward the door. “I gave him the bigger picture.”

Then he turned and fled toward the house.

He swung the front door open, rattling the hinges. “Lisa, it’s me! We’re leaving – now.”

Lisa appeared at the top of the stairs, her hands wrapped around her bag of emergency supplies. “Lenny, what happened?”

“The egg hatched, that’s what happened,” Len said, tearing apart the counter drawers in search of the motorcycle keys. “And the dragon went for dad.”

Len’s fingers closed around the keys, and he ran outside with Lisa close behind.

The sky above the farm was wreathed in thick, dark smoke. Len turned to the egg shed and his breath caught; the entire wood pile and the field behind it was ablaze. “He’s a firebreather,” Len said, his brain struggling to process the sudden carnage.

“The dragon did all this?” Lisa said, her expression bordering on reverent.

“He did,” Len said, staring in the direction of the shed. “Lise, go wait with the bike. I’ve gotta do something.”

He set off running toward the shed, skirting the fireline, and was about to duck inside when the dragon dove out of the sky and landed in front of him, hellfire crackling in his jaws. “What’re you still doin’ here, Snart?” he said, swallowing the flame. “Thought I told you to run.”

“We’re running,” Len replied calmly, out of instinct, as he worked to equate the swath of destruction behind him with the hatchling at his feet. “But I’m not leaving the egg and my father in there to die.”

The dragonet tipped his head, considering. “You wouldn’t, would you,” he rumbled. “I’ll get the egg. You carry Lewis.”

He vanished into the egg shed, and Len followed.

Lewis was laying on the floor of the shed, unconscious. “What happened?” Len said, raising an eyebrow.

“He wouldn’t let up,” said the dragonet nonchalantly as he gathered the egg in his forelegs. “So I gave him a tap on the head with my tail.”

Len frowned, giving the hatchling a second once-over. Upon closer inspection, the dragonet’s tail was covered in fused bony plating that formed the shape of a club. Len swallowed. Fire breath and close-range assault weapons. What sort of hellish crossbreed _was_ this dragon?

“Yeah, well,” he huffed, hoisting Lewis onto his shoulder, “I’ll hardly complain that he’s out cold. You sure you have a grip on that egg?”

“Shut your face,” the dragon grunted. I’ve got it.”

Dragging Lewis out of the building was no small feat, given that he was nearly twice Len’s weight, but he managed it. Once he’d gotten the man clear of the fireline, Len dropped him, then paused to look at his prone form in revulsion. “You brought this on yourself, you know,” he said. “If you hadn’t tried to fuck up more kids, none of this would have happened.”

Lewis didn’t move or make any reply, so Len gritted his teeth and swiped his wallet.

If this had been a clear-cut instance of pickpocketing, Lewis’ wallet would have been a good haul. Len thumbed through it, frowning thoughtfully. Driver’s license, a couple of credit cards, and cash – lots of it.

Len replaced the driver’s license in its protective sleeve – the police would need some way to identify him when they showed up – but took everything else.

He slipped the wallet into his pocket and turned to look for the dragon. The hatchling was bent over the egg with his tail curled around it, talking to it in a low, urgent voice. “Can I take it?” Len said, feeling like he was intruding. “Or will you find other dragons to return it to?”

The hatchling shook his head. “Not me. Gotta travel light. I need to feed myself, can’t be looking out for a mouth that ain’t even out of the shell.” He extended his wings skyward, flashing a bright pattern on their undersides that Len hadn’t seen until now.

“Besides,” the dragonet added, glancing down at the shell, “never heard of an egg that buzzes like this one. It’s one of a kind. Egg like that, humans come looking for. You can protect it, and I want to be long gone.”

Len swallowed around the dryness in his mouth. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, his mind already turning over the logistics of how he and Lisa would carry it when they were on the run, how they would keep it warm.

“Good.” The hatchling nodded once, blinking his yellow eyes, then bunched his muscles and leapt into the sky.

“Wait!” Len called before the dragonet could vanish into the still-rising sun. “Why did you help us?”

The dragon paused and backwinged toward him. “Didn’t cost me anything,” he rumbled. “All of us were under the same thumb, after all. Way I figure it, you’re the mouse.”

Len raised an eyebrow. “The what?”

“Well you’re not the lion, not compared to me,” said the hatchling without a trace of smugness or overconfidence. “Which means that I help you now, and later on you owe me for it. That’s how the story works, right?”

“Yeah,” Len said, swallowing. “But that’s an awfully big chance to take on a children’s book.”

The dragon swept back over in another pass, his wings kicking up dust. “It’ll pay off, if I ever come by to collect.”

“It will,” Len agreed, because this dragonet – he’d saved an egg from a burning building, indirectly saved Lisa from years of suffering and abuse. He owed this dragon more favors than he knew how to repay.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, being beholden to someone so much stronger than himself but with so little interest in the outcome of his life. Len supposed he’d just have to try and get used to it.

The dragonet made another loop overhead. “I’d head east,” he recommended. “There are cars coming from the town.”

Len nodded. The police were on their way; it was time to be gone. “You’re leaving too?”

“In a few,” the dragonet called to him as he flew over the roof of the egg shed. “Gotta do something first.”

The dragonet opened his mouth and breathed a torrent of curling, oily-looking flames. The fire licked over the cement, finding gaps and catching on anything flammable nearby.

Len tore his eyes away from the spectacle and scooped up the egg, holding it carefully as he sprinted for the bike. He swung aboard the seat and motioned for Lisa to climb on behind him.

“Hold this,” he said to her, taking her emergency bag and passing the egg into her arms.

Lisa stared at it in alarm. “But what if I drop it?”

“We’ll get a basket and some blankets for it in the next town over,” Len said, putting the key in the ignition and turning until the motor roared to life. “But we’ve gotta get out of here, and fast.”

Lisa folded the egg in close to her chest. “Okay, Lenny, I’ve got it.”

As they pulled out of the garage and onto the gravel driveway, Len saw the dragon’s wings flash by overhead before a gout of fire slammed into the roof of the house where they’d been stuck without respite for the past month. The shingles offered no protection, and the dry wood went up like a tinderbox.

Len’s lips pulled back in a grim smile. He’d never been a fan of arson – too much wanton destruction, too little control. But for once, he could see the appeal.

He forced himself to turn away from the sight of the purifying fire and focused on the road in front of him. This was their chance. They had hours of daylight in front of them, and many miles to cover.

He would not – could not – look back.


	2. The Crow and the Pitcher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU is one that I usually write when my other WIPs are giving me trouble, so it doesn't really have an update schedule. But when I found out about the Dragon AU Week that's happening from January 2-8, I decided it was a perfect time to take this fic off the backburner and finish part 2! I'm going to try and get part 3 finished by the end of this week, mainly as an apology for ending on a cliffhanger. XD
> 
> The chapter title, like all the chapter titles in this fic, is the name of an Aesop's fable! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Stopping in the next town over proved impossible.  Between the burning house, the rampaging feral dragon, and the prone form of a wanted criminal ringleader laying on the lawn, the town of Jennings was seeing more excitement in a morning than all of rural Oklahoma generally saw in a year.  Law enforcement descended in droves, and ordinary civilians flocked to the potential gossip like moths to a porch light. 

Len bypassed the first three towns before pulling the bike into a sporting goods store.  Westport seemed densely populated enough that they wouldn’t immediately be identified as newcomers, which would be important.  Still, they were on a tight schedule and eyes were everywhere.  Len didn’t have time to case the store, not with his sister and a dragon egg outside. 

So four of Lewis’ twenties went to pay for a couple of shitty flashlights, three fleece throws, some hand warmers, and a kids’ tent that would keep the bugs off but would provide little in the way of actual shelter.  He did manage to slip some extra socks and a baseball cap beneath the lining of his windbreaker, which made him feel a bit better about having to drop so much of their limited financial resources on a single stop. 

Lisa squealed with delight when Len gave her the cap he’d snagged.  It was pink camouflage, like almost everything in the kids’ section had been, but it fit well enough and it would keep some of the sun off his sister’s face.  The cute factor didn’t hurt matters either.  Hopefully it would be enough to keep Lisa from looking like a runaway. 

Because the trip back to Central would take a while, Len concluded grimly as he shoved their new supplies into the motorcycle’s tiny side boxes.  They had to keep out of sight and off the main roads during the day, and he wasn’t about to keep Lisa up all night unless it was a real emergency.  The bulk of their interstate travel time would be confined to the early morning, when they could find an interstate.  Afternoons would have to be spent on back roads, moving slower, covering less ground in more time until they had to stop – for supplies, for rest, to check on the egg, to make camp for the night. 

Lisa had thrown an old tarp over the egg while he’d been in the store; crude concealment, but effective.  Len pulled it out, checking the red shell carefully for any damage.  It looked unharmed, in spite of their rough departure.  The challenge now would be keeping it warm. 

Len opened the small storage compartment on the front of the motorcycle, positioned just beneath the handlebars.  Placing one of the fleece blankets inside, he cautiously lowered the egg into the tiny space and crammed more blankets around it to make a sort of nest.  This egg was about the size of a basketball, fortunately; the firebreather’s egg had been larger, and would have been impossible to transport this way. 

Satisfied for the time being, Len called to Lisa and they started up the bike again.  They’d go a little further, then check the egg.  With any luck, the heat from the engine would be enough to keep the blanket nest nice and toasty. 

When the sun started setting and Lisa started yawning, Len turned the motorcycle off the two-lane road and cut away into the treeline.  As long as they didn’t build a fire or use their lights after the sun went down, they’d be tough to see from the road. 

Setting up the tiny tent and fitting them both inside it proved to be equally challenging.  Len had to bend almost double to keep from hitting his head, but Lisa didn’t seem to mind.  He supposed it was better than the open air. 

“Lenny,” his sister whispered as she got settled.  “I left Goldie in the side car – can I go get her?”

Len considered.  He was hardly going to make Lisa spend a night in a strange place without her stuffed dragon, especially since they were relatively safe for the time being.  But on the other hand, he wasn’t about to let his sister leave the tent in the dark.  “I’ll get her,” he said. 

A couple minutes of rummaging later, he managed to extricate the yellow plush from where it had been stowed.  It was still slightly warm, but the night air quickly leeched the vestiges of remaining heat from its stuffing. 

Len frowned and opened the compartment where the egg was sitting.  He’d done everything he could to keep it warm.  He’d even shoved a few activated hand-warming packets into the blankets.  But against this air, they wouldn’t do much good – and the temperature was still dropping. 

Making an executive decision, Lenny extricated the egg and its fleece blankets and carried the bundle back to the tent.  “The egg is staying in here with us,” he said.  “We can keep it warmer than a few blankets.” 

Lisa placed her stuffed dragon on top of the egg before curling around the blanket nest herself.  “Damn right,” she said.  “And when it hatches, we’ll take great care of it too.” 

Len held back a tiny strangled sound – because their last hatching had gone so smoothly, sure.  “We’re not gonna hatch this one,” he said.  “We’re returning it to its home.  When we get back to Central, I’ll sneak into STAR Labs and leave it there, like nothing ever happened.” 

Lisa tilted her head in the gathering night.  “That’s good.  And then we’re going home too.” 

“Yeah, sis,” Len said, thinking about the diner, and their old place in Central, and the Jennings house burned to ashes.  “We’re going home.” 

* * *

When the first rays of light crept over the horizon, Len startled awake and nearly bashed his head against the roof of the tent in his haste to put wood on the egg fire before he remembered.  He sank back to the tent floor, rubbing the kinks out of his neck. 

There was a strange smell in the air, faint but heavy.  It hadn’t been there the night before.  Len frowned, then placed a gentle hand on Lisa’s arm.  “Sis, it’s me.  Time to wake up.” 

Lisa shot into wakefulness, then visibly relaxed once she remembered what had happened the day before.  “Did the egg stay warm enough?” she said, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. 

Len rested a hand against the shell, taking note of the warmth and the way the hairs on the back of his arm twitched when his skin made contact.  “It’s warm.  Feels healthy.”  He drew back, shaking the tingling feeling out of his fingers.  “Let’s break down camp and get on the road.” 

The heavy smell in the air continued to linger, and there was something about it that caused the hairs on the back of Len’s neck to rise.  Now that he was in the open air, it was stronger – an acrid scent that burned his nostrils. 

“Gather up the blankets, Lise,” he said quietly, turning his head to look for the source of the smell. 

In the distance, Len saw a billowing plume of smoke rising from the treeline.  He refrained, just barely, from lowering his head into his hands.  _Fucking fantastic._

Well, at least he and Lisa knew which way _not_ to travel – in the direction of the ash cloud.  Len bundled the egg in the blankets and packed it unceremoniously into the motorcycle’s compartment before stuffing the hastily-folded tent back into the side compartments.  They needed to get on the road – and the sight of a blazing forest was just extra incentive.  Len had dealt with too much fire lately to be eager for more. 

Of course, finding their way back to any sort of meaningful civilization was easier said than done.  Len knew that he and Lisa were headed in roughly the right direction, but the Midwest was vast and open and it wasn’t uncommon for them to travel for a day or two without encountering any other people.  This was ideal for two runaways on a stolen motorcycle, but not so great for young people running on a limited supply of easily transportable and non-perishable food. 

It became a matter of necessity for Len to give the majority of their stolen food to Lisa.  She was still growing, and needed it more than he did.  Fortunately it was almost time for the corn harvest; getting food for himself proved easy enough, even if the majority of the corn grown in the fields they passed wasn’t really intended for human consumption.  It was tough and tasteless, probably grown for the purposes of turning into livestock or high fructose corn syrup, and it took a lot of cooking to get it into a state where Len could eat it without feeling a bit ill afterwards. 

Finding water to drink, and fuel for the bike, proved a more persistent challenge.  Len had managed to acquire several water bottles, but getting clean drinking water meant going into town to fill them – and that meant people.  Len never got his gasoline and his water at the same place, preferring to visit gas stations on the opposite end of town when possible.  When it was a water stop, he always took great pains to hide the motorcycle and the egg before going to any of the gas station bathrooms, but there was no way he was going to let his sister out of his sight.  The two of them developed a system – Lisa would refill the water bottles in the women’s restroom, and Len would stand outside and keep watch.  He attracted a few interested stares, but at least that way he bore the brunt of the attention. 

Oftentimes the gas stations they stopped in had the radio playing, and during their water runs Len always strained his hearing to the utmost in order to catch the news.  He never heard anything about him or Lisa, but every so often he would catch slivers of news about Lewis.  His old man had survived the dragon attack, which had been widely covered by the local media, but there was never any news about a case against him, or about the second egg that had been stolen and that was now residing in a blanket nest beneath the handlebars of Len’s motorcycle. 

But one afternoon, about two weeks into their escape, Len heard a radio announcement that made his heart freeze in his chest. 

“Several sightings of a feral firebreather were reported by guests traveling to the Indigo Sky Casino,” reported a newscaster on what looked like a local station.  Len looked away from the bathroom door and over at the television behind the counter, which was displaying a slightly grainy reel of a large, dark-colored dragon gliding over a stretch of burning forest.  “So far authorities have not been able to make contact with the firebreather, who appears to be moving steadily to the northeast.  Draconic police units are being dispatched to search for the feral, who has begun encroaching on human-dominated communities and in several instances has caused substantial property damage.  So far no loss of life has been reported-”

A small hand touched Len’s arm, and he jumped.  “They’re talking about our firebreather, aren’t they?” Lisa said quietly.  “He’s getting himself into a lot of trouble.” 

“He certainly is,” Len replied, taking the water bottles from beneath Lisa’s arm. 

On the way out, he paused to take one last glance at the news footage of the dragon swooping overhead.  He’d bet money that it was the same dragon, and suddenly he remembered the forest fire that he’d seen during the first few days of their escape.  Had the firebreather been following them?  And if he had, for what purpose? 

Len wanted to find out, but no unsolved mystery was worth compromising his sister’s safety. 

But it was only a matter of time before trouble caught up to them. 

That evening, as Len was pitching the tiny tent to make camp, he got the distinct feeling that he was being watched.  “Who’s there?” he called warily. 

Two kids – tall but gangly, smaller than Len, probably around sixteen – stepped out of the copse where Len had stashed the bike.  “That’s a nice ride you’ve got,” one of them said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

 _Shit, shit, shit._ “Thanks,” Len called, forcing his hands to remain still at his sides and not automatically curl into fists.  He thanked every higher power in the shitty universe that Lisa was out of sight, tending to the egg, and he intentionally pitched his voice louder so that it would carry to where she was hidden.  “But I’m afraid it’s not for sale.” 

“Not a problem,” said the other guy, taking a step forward.  Len saw him reach into his pocket, and he tensed – if this kid was armed, things would get ugly.  “We can take it off your hands.” 

Len took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable confrontation, when a deep, booming roar from above made him pause. 

The kids took a step back, looking up at the sky nervously, and Len got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

There was a gust of wind, and the earth beneath Len’s feet shook as the firebreather dropped to the ground directly behind him.  “Snart,” the dragon rumbled before glowering at the two kids.  “You punks got a problem?” 

“No – no problem!” gasped the second kid, withdrawing his hand from his pocket like its contents had burned him.  “We were just leaving!” 

The two tresspassers booked it out of there.  Len watched them go before slowly turning to look at the dragon behind him. 

The first thing he noticed was that the firebreather had grown immensely since hatching.  While he had been the size of a small dog at birth, Len’s line of sight was now barely level with the dragon’s shoulder.  He had no idea that young dragons grew so fast.    Len also noticed the dragon’s smell, which clung to his scales and was vaguely reminiscent of a pile of charcoal briquettes.  A slow scan upward revealed several nasty-looking scars on the dragon’s neck, but the eyes, set deep in their sockets and bright like smoldering embers, were as intent and unnerving as Len remembered. 

He forced himself to take a deep breath.  The firebreather had possibly saved him from an asskicking, maybe worse; the least he could do was be civil. 

“You’ve been following us?” he said to the dragon, meeting his yellow eyes coolly. 

“When I could,” the dragon said, his reply equally diffident.  “You two zigzag.  Makes it tough to keep on top of you.  Took me a while to figure out your pattern.” 

“Okay,” Len said, nodding, trying not to think too hard about the fact that a newborn dragon had been able to predict his and Lisa’s route through the middle of the countryside.  “You’ve been keeping busy.  Heard about you on the radio.  The fire back west, was that you?”

The dragon scuffed his tail across the ground.  “Yep, that was me.  Listen, I’m in a bit of a bind.” 

 _You don’t say,_ Len thought.  “And let me guess, you followed us because I owe you.  What’s going on?” 

The dragon broke eye contact and swished his tail again; Len’s eyebrows rose when he realized that the firebreather was actually expressing _embarrassment._ “After I burned down your house, I went and got some food.  A few chickens.  Then I moved on, took a goat.  The farmers didn’t like that much,” he said diffidently, seeming oblivious to Len’s growing horror.  “They told me to get my own somewhere else, but there’s nothin’ out there but fields, you know?  I had to look in the forest, except it’s not easy to fly around in there.  So I burned it down,” he finished.

“You burned down an entire forest,” Len said flatly.  “Looking for food.”  

“It wasn’t that impressive,” the dragon said, waving a wing dismissively.  “It was a small forest.  But it worked like a charm, flushed all the deer and stuff right out.  Except then the big red trucks with the water hoses showed up, and then some smaller cars with flashing lights.  They put the fires out, and then some humans with guns came looking for me.”  

“How did you escape?” said Lisa, who looked totally enraptured by the dragon’s story.  

“I flew.  Had to leave a few of the deer behind,” said the dragon, looking put-out by the memory, “but the humans were afraid of me so it wasn’t hard to ditch ‘em.  Except those flashing cars are everywhere,” he continued, snorting a plume of smoke and thumping his clubbed tail against the ground.  “And sometimes there were dragons with them.”  

“Those were the police,” Len said, feeling his alarm beginning to build.  “They enforce laws.”  

“Really?” said the firebreather, tilting his head.  “I thought the military did that.”  

“What?  No, it’s the police.  At least for civilians, which is what we are,” Len said, shaking his head.  “Are they still following you?”

“I managed to give most of ‘em the slip,” the dragon said, “but the dragons are harder.  They can follow me in the air.  A few times I’ve had to hide and let them pass over.  I don’t think they followed me to you, but I can’t outrun dragon police forever,” he huffed.  “So I need safe passage.”  

Len raised an eyebrow.  “And you think you can get that from us?  We’re runaways.  And I stole this motorcycle and hundreds of dollars in cash.”  

“Sure,” said the dragon, shrugging, “but you have that egg.  And you’re gonna return it.  If the ones responsible for it want to get it back safe, they might let you through.  There might be a reward.”  

“And if there is a reward, you want in,” Len said, beginning to see the dragon’s logic.  “So you want to be with us when we return the egg, for safe passage.”  

“It’ll be good for you too,” the dragon argued.  “I can carry you and Lisa.  Not for long, I’m not big enough yet, but I’ll be better than the thing you’re driving now.  You can’t even go in straight lines if you’re forced to stick to the roads.  And I can keep the egg warm.”  

Len nodded.  The dragon had good points.  Traveling with a large and dangerous-looking firebreather would probably have its risks; it would definitely make them more conspicuous.  On the other hand, it would save them time and be better for the egg.  

Besides, Len really did owe him.  

He turned to look at his sister.  “Lisa, are you okay with taking our friend up on his offer?”  

“Ooh,” she gasped.  “If we get to fly, then yes.”

Len’s lips twitched.  “It’s a deal then,” he said, looking up at the dragon.  “We’ll have to figure out a way to tie ourselves onto you so we’re easy to carry.  I can steal some rope when we get to a town.”  

The dragon nodded, his yellow gaze approving.  “Smart thinking, Snart.”

“You can call me Len if you’d rather,” Len said.  “Do you go by anything?  Have you picked yourself a name?”  

“Didn’t need to,” the dragon said, puffing out his chest.  “They gave me a designation while I was in the egg.  I know what I am.”  

“What’s your name then?” Lisa said, while Len wondered why the fuck this two-week-old dragon had referred to his own name as a _designation._

The firebreather arched his neck, flaring out his wings so that the flashy pattern on their underside was displayed to maximum dramatic effect.  “I’m _Heatwave_.”  

Len resisted the urge to smack himself in the forehead.  Of course the firebreather would have become attached to a flashy name.  Out loud, he said “That’s cool.  But Lisa and I need a way to talk about you when we’re around humans.  With a name like Heatwave, you’re obviously a dragon, and you definitely sound like a firebreather.  People in town might realize we’re traveling with you.”  

The dragon blinked.  “Oh.  That makes sense.  And the police do know my name already.”

“Why do they know that?”  

“I may have shouted it right before I blew up one of their cars?”  The dragon swished his tail through the dirt.  “In my defense, I was only three days old at the time.”  

Len didn’t even have it in him anymore to be surprised.  “Right.  That’s settled, then.  You need a nickname.  It won’t replace ‘Heatwave’ as your name, and you can pick it out yourself.  I won’t give it to you.  But it should be a name that a human could have.”  

“What about Bic?” said Lisa unexpectedly.  “It’s a kind of lighter.  They make fire, like you.”  

“Ooh that’s good.  But let’s tweak it to Mick,” said the firebreather.  “It sounds like ‘Mike’ but is actually about fire.  Perfect for me.  Does that work as a nickname?”

“Mick and Mike are both human nicknames for the name ‘Michael,’ so yeah,” said Len, surprised by how quickly the dragon had been able to come up with something that he liked, and that the feral firebreather had been willing to take so much input from him and his sister.  

Which, now that he thought about it, might not be a bad thing… “Lisa, can you do me a favor and unpack the egg?” Len said.  “Mick can warm it up before we get in the air.”  

Lisa sat up straighter.  “So we’re going with him?” she said with a grin.  “Right now?”  

“We’re going,” said Len, looking over the firebreather’s rough scales and long, sharp claws.  “We’ll need to figure out a way to ride safely, and soon, but we’re going.  But the egg first.”  

Lisa rubbed her hands together, looking happier than Len had seen her in days.  “Right.  I’ll go get it!”  

Len watched her run in the direction of the motorcycle before turning back to Mick.  “We’ll go with you,” he said, looking into the gleaming yellow eyes, “but I want you to promise me something.”  

The dragon nodded slowly.  “I’m listening.”  

“No matter what happens to me, I want you to swear that you’ll get Lisa back to Central City,” Len said, his mouth dry.  “Promise me you’ll look out for her.”  

Mick blinked.  “You care about her more than you do about yourself,” he said, and Len nodded.  “Not gonna pretend I understand why, but sure.  I can promise that.  Do you think something’s gonna happen to you before we get to Central?”  

“No,” sighed Len, turning away from the dragon to look in the direction of the motorcycle and his sister.  “I don’t.  But you can never be too careful.”  

* * *

Traveling by dragonback took some getting used to.  Mick was still small enough that Len could sit fairly well astride his neck, but Lisa had a harder time.  She rode with Len at first, secured by ropes so that she wouldn’t fall off the dragon’s back, but over time she shifted gradually backward until she was situated near the makeshift saddlebags, wrapped in blankets to protect her from the cold.  She was also able to keep an eye on the egg from her spot, which made Len feel a lot better.  Whipping up functional dragon tack from scrap rope, metal, and canvas had taken up the better part of a day, and Len still worried about the saddlebags’ structural integrity, but it was the best they could do.  The egg was warm and relatively safe, and if the saddlebags did start to slip, it would be easy for Lisa to get Mick’s attention so that they could land. 

They were covering ground more quickly now, even accounting for the frequent stops they needed to take.  Mick was growing rapidly, but he was still too small to carry Len and Lisa for more than a few hours at a time.  He also needed to hunt twice a day in order to sustain his growth spurt; Len had no idea that dragons grew so quickly or needed to eat so much.  He did feel a bit guilty that Mick had to steal so many of his meals, but the dragon didn’t seem to mind.  Even if the stealing had bothered the firebreather, it wasn’t like they could go into town to buy food at any of the waypoints that served the local dragons.  Mick’s dark coloration, stocky build, and gigantic horns would make him instantly recognizable to any dragon or human who had seen his picture, or heard his description, and they didn’t have enough money for food regardless. 

The egg needed tending as well, which became Len’s primary responsibility during their stops.  Mick would create a nest of coals before he went off to hunt, and Len would periodically turn them over with a long-handled shovel to expose new warm patches for the egg to sit in.  They also had to hide periodically from other dragons - it wasn’t always easy to tell which dragons were part of law enforcement and which were ordinary citizenry, and there was always the possibility that Len and Lisa could be mistaken for egg thieves if Mick wasn’t around to look intimidating and guard the egg from passerby.  

And as they moved toward Central City, the dragon population was increasing.  It wasn’t the most integrated city in the Midwest for nothing - most of the dragons were lightweights and wouldn’t pose much of a threat to Mick, but the sheer number of eyes in the air did make it harder to travel without attracting attention.  

And to make matters more urgent, the shell of the second egg had already started to harden.  

“What’ll we do if it hatches before we get back to Central?” Lisa said, peering over Mick’s foreleg to examine the egg more closely.  They had been traveling together for a little more than a week, and Lisa had lost all fear of the giant firebreather – not that she’d had much in the way of caution to begin with.  It made sense, considering that Lisa’s best friend back in Central was a dragon, but Len did wish his sister would be a little more careful. 

“We’ll have to persuade the hatchling to travel with us,” Len sighed.  

Mick blew a gust of warm breath over the egg.  “Shouldn’t be too difficult,” he rumbled.  “I’ve been talking to the egg at our rest stops.  It should know we wanna help it.”  

“It might make the reward less substantial,” Len said.  “STAR Labs might want the egg, not a hatchling.”  

Mick’s eyes narrowed.  “That shouldn’t matter.  Hatched dragon’ll be good for more anyway.  It can look out for itself.  Unless you don’t think this lab would want that?” he said, looking indignant by the prospect.  

Len shrugged one shoulder.  He hadn’t been planning to debate dragon husbandry with an actual dragon, and he guiltily realized that the prospect of doing so was making him feel a bit uncomfortable.  It wasn’t that he worried about Mick getting offended.  The dragon was refreshingly blunt and always spoke his mind, but he also seemed unwilling to criticize and had never displayed any impatience with Len’s or Lisa’s opinions.  But regardless, Len didn’t want to accidentally say something ignorant.  

He realized, with faint surprise, that even though Mick was less than a month old, Len already considered him an equal.  Possibly even a friend.  

“I don’t know whether the lab would be upset if the egg hatched,” Len finally said.  “But I do know that I would rather return the egg in the same condition it was in when we took it.”

Mick blinked.  “Um.  Snart, about that.”  

“If anything goes wrong when the egg hatches or while the dragonet is traveling with us, STAR Labs might try to hold us responsible,” Len continued, fumbling to explain his concerns to the dragon before Mick could object further.  “There might be less of a reward.”  To say nothing of his concerns for the hatchling’s well-being, of course, but Len had heard that dragons were far more protective of eggs than of newborns, who were expected to be able to fend for themselves.  Mick might interpret his concern about a hatchling as fussiness, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t about to look out for a baby dragon the same way he did his best to look out for Lisa, no matter how capable the hatchling was.  

“You’ve got your pants in a twist,” Mick said with a snort that sounded almost fond.  “Relax.  I was only gonna tell you that there might be a problem with returning the egg to STAR Labs.”  

Len felt his heart rate pick up slightly.  “A problem,” he said, keeping his voice level.  “And why might that be?”  

Mick tilted his nose down toward the egg.  “Because it’s hatching.”  

“It’s hatching,” Len said flatly.  “The shell hasn’t even completely hardened yet and it’s _hatching._ ”  

“Seems like it,” said Mick.  He seemed more amused than anything.  He clearly hadn’t grasped the gravity of the situation.  They should have had another week to reach Central.  Why was the egg hatching prematurely?  Was there something wrong with it?  

“Lisa!” Len called.  “Grab the emergency bag!  The egg is hatching!”  

Within minutes, Len’s sister came running with the so-called _emergency bag_ , a canvas tote that Len had set aside a few days ago in case of something like this.  It contained a few clean towels, some first-aid supplies, and an unopened bag of beef jerky - emergency medical supplies and dragon rations.  He had made up the kit once the shell started to harden, but he had done it mainly to set himself at ease, not because he thought they would actually have to use it.  

Beef jerky for a hatchling.  If he hadn’t been trying to project a calm and unruffled demeanor, Len would have laughed.  

“Do you think it’s going to be okay?” Lisa said quietly as the three of them watched the widening web of cracks spread across the surface of the eggshell.  

“I don’t know, Lise,” Len sighed.  “We’ll just have to wait and see.”  

As if on cue, the egg stopped rocking - then, all at once, it split open.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief note about Len and Lisa's travel route: I did my best to make it feasible, since I like using real-world locations when I can. The route I used runs from Jennings, OK to St Louis, MO (which is standing in for Central City - all I could find about its location was that it's in Missouri). It is about 430 miles by road and can be driven directly in six hours. Len would have to get them VERY lost in order to stretch the trip into roughly three weeks... He doesn’t know his way around though, and isn’t asking for directions, plus there are fires and cops to dodge – basically, I’m running with it so that Mick has time to grow. Temeraire-verse dragons grow quickly when they're young, but they don't get large enough to carry two human passengers overnight. The Indigo Sky Casino is another waypoint. It’s near Joplin and marks the rough halfway point between Jennings and Springfield, MO. Len and Lisa meet up with Mick around the Springfield area and fly with him from there. 
> 
> [Here](http://cardinalstar.tumblr.com/post/146470659052/a-quick-ref-of-mick-rory-from-my-flash-dragon-au) is the hyperlink to the drawing I did of Mick! The scanner washed out the colors some, which was disappointing - oh well. All the more incentive for me to learn some digital art techniques, I suppose! I'll be adding more dragon pictures to part 3, since a new hatchling will be appearing in the first scene!

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious to know what any of the dragons from this story look like, I've started a rough drawing of Mick and will be posting it on my Tumblr once it's finished. My URL there is also cardinalstar! I'll be drawing all the dragons as they appear, including Barry, Iris, and some others who will be spoilers if I list them here. ^^
> 
> I'd love to know what you think of this, so feel free to leave kudos or comments (or both) if you enjoyed it! If you've got any questions about the Temeraire-related aspects of this fic (since there aren't as many Flash-exclusive elements here, besides the characters), please don't hesitate to ask. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


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